


Cigarette Brand Cigarettes

by 24inches



Category: Batman (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics), Under the Red Hood
Genre: Alternate Scene, Angst, Bat Family, Batfamily Feels, Bruce Wayne is a Good Dad, Dead Body, Emotional Confrontation, Emotional Porn, Family, Family Feels, Gen, Guilt, Hopeful Ending, Hurt Tim Drake, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd is a petty bitch, Jason is a good brother, Jason isn't quite ready to make up with the fam, Jason to the Rescue, Manslaughter, Misunderstandings, Oracle is a godess, Protective Jason, Self-Sacrifice, Smoking, Why Did I Write This?, mention of Tim/Kon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 03:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9474500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/24inches/pseuds/24inches
Summary: "Jason? It's Tim..... I think I killed someone."Jason gets a late night call from a very distressed little bird which leads to accidental family bonding.





	1. In Case of Emergency

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Incident, Coincidence, Pattern](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7505314) by [laceymcbain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laceymcbain/pseuds/laceymcbain), [reena_jenkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins). 



> Oh boy.  
> This was inspired by Laceymcbain's Robins United series which I highly recommend. I didn't know much about the characters I just sort of read it for the lols. However I was so fascinated by the characters and their relationships I read the whole series. Once I was done I couldn't help wondering how one scene could have gone differently under different circumstances. I wanted to write it but I didn't have a good enough feel for their voices. My friend lent me some comics and now I'm writing Batman fan fiction and my life is over.  
> Aside from inspiration and similar circumstances this fic is no way associated to Laceymcbain's story. You don't need to have read it to enjoy this. Though you should, read it that is. It's good.

It’s 4am, eastern standard time. It’s also at least 95 degrees, which is either way too hot to be this dark or it’s way too dark to be this hot. Either way it’s hot and dark and Jason Todd is having a cigarette. He has taken his hood and mask off. From where he is standing on the rooftop of a 4 storey apartment building the lights Gotham City outshine the stars.

He knows he shouldn’t be smoking. He is well aware of how bad it is for him. He had even promised himself he was going to quit starting today. And yet here he is looking over the city and smoking a cigarette.

There really is nothing for it. He likes it, it calms him in a way that very few things do and on a list of things that are going to kill Jason Todd, cigarettes is not even in the top 100. Not that it is helping now. He really hates quiet nights.

In his experience quiet nights were an implication that something big was coming. It means that Gotham's criminal class was locked away scheming their next plots. Maybe Jason was just being paranoid, maybe it was just quiet because it was Labor Day.

Jason looks out at the sleepless city. He can just make out the words ‘Wayne Enterprises’ on one of the nearby skyscrapers. It’s blocking Jason's view of Gotham Bay. He could still smell the rotten water though so that's nice.

He knows for a fact that Bruce thinks of the city as living breathing thing. As a boy Jason had been subjected to an unholy amount of Gotham based monologues that Bruce probably had written in sparkle gel pen in his diary somewhere. Jason has never seen Gotham that way. To him it has always just been a place with a high concentration of people.

Just one of the many points where Jason and Bruce have never quite seen eye to eye. Bruce fights for abstract concepts: of _his_ city, _his_ morales. Forever a little boy in daddy's clothes, out to save the world and be back by supper. Jason fights for it’s people, he fights to protect those people. It just so happens that the greatest threat to the people of Gotham is Gotham's people.   

Bruce would argue that it makes Jason no better than the scum he seeks to destroy. He would be right. Jason is under no illusion that he is any better than a common killer. Sure, he has a righteous journey and a noble cause. But if Jason has learned anything while making time in Gotham's criminal underworld it is that everyone has noble intentions, everyone thinks they are the good guy. What separated The Red Hood from every other common criminal? So far, his aim. Beside, he didn’t need to be better than them, he just needed them to be dead.

Jason himself is the poster boy for Bruce's flawed code of ethics. He has proved on multiple occasions that no prison can hold him and putting him in Arkham Asylum with other violent criminals only makes it easier for him to kill them. He has Batman trapped by his own stubborn morality.  The only way to stop him would be to kill him and Jason would bet his favorite bike that cigarettes would kill him before Batman ever grows the courage to do it.

But until that day things with the bat cult are...better, not _great,_ but no one was dead...anymore. It’s not like he comes over every sunday for brunch and singalongs but Jason has come a long way from trying to kill them all in revenge induced rage.

Things will never go back to the way they were when he was wearing Dicks old colors but that was fine. Jason has come a long way from being a headstrong boy who sought the approval of a man in a bat suit. That boy had literally died. Bruce had moved on, and Jason had lost everything. No, Jason did not want things to go back to the way they were. He refused to fall into the arms of the man that picked the Joker over him.

All that said, Jason isn’t petty enough to refuse a call to arms when it comes through. The bats are assholes with fairy tale ideals but Jason would never say no to punching criminals.

They had even managed some team ups without Gotham burning to the ground. He has given them a number where he can be reached in case of emergencies. He knows it makes him easier to track but he also knows that there is no point in trying to hide from the all seeing Oracle. If they want to try to arrest him they know where to find him, let them go ahead and try.

He never calls them. Even when he is desperate. Relying on Batman had gotten him killed and he wasn’t about to make that mistake again.

So Jason’s burner phone sits in his pocket. silent aside from the occasional random and ignored text from Dick. They only call him if they are truly desperate. At which point the situation has escalated so far out of control that is was all over the news and Jason is already halfway there anyway.

Which is why he jumps 10 feet into the air when his burner phone starts vibrating in his pocket on a night that is deader than he had been.

The caller ID says ICE which means the call is coming from Red Robin’s personal phone. Tim Drake, his replacement, the only member of the bat greeks that doesn’t make him want to throw up.

Which is strange, Jason knows that, given the circumstances. The knife he had put in Tim’s chest and all the subsequent times Jason has tried to kill him. After Bruce Tim had been the primary subject of Jason’s revenge plot: the snot nosed rich kid Bruce had replaced him with like a used napkin.

Strangely enough though, after the green haze had started to clear from Jason’s head Tim had been the quickest to put Jason’s homicidal rage behind him. Which is bizarre.

Jason isn’t dumb enough to go to the bats looking for sympathy but if he had he would have thought it would come from the woman who, by all rights, should want The Joker dead as much as he does.

But it had been Tim who reached out to him. And really he isn’t a bad kid to have around. He is useful as hell, Jason knows how to use a computer and all but Tim is nearly as good as Oracle. He can hold his own in a fight, and best of all - he hadn’t known Jason before he had died.

Jason would sometimes catch these looks coming from Dick, Bruce and even Barbra. Like they are expecting something. Like maybe if they looked hard enough they could  catch a glimpse of the boy they had all known. It made Jason want to shoot them in the face.

Tim hadn’t known him back then. He didn’t have any romantic notions of the robin who had fallen from the nest. He doesn’t expect Jason to be anyone other than the man forged in the fire of explosives. Plus Tim has broken him out of prison more than once which is pretty solid of him.

Jason Takes off one glove with his teeth so he could tap the touch screen.

“Hood here.” Jason answers, his words muffled by the glove still in his mouth.

He knows he shouldn’t be answering his phone like that when he is out in the open like this with no mask on. But he is sure no one is around and even if they are he very much doubts that anyone would make the connection between the notorious blood thirsty Red Hood and the guy standing around in the middle of the night talking on his phone with a glove in his mouth.

The line is quiet for a long time. Jason would have hung up, thinking it was a bad connection if it weren’t for the shallow breathing he can hear on the other end. If this is Dick’s idea of a joke Jason is going to put some extra holes in the idiot. The answer though, when it does finally come isn’t Dick.

“...Jason? It’s Tim.”

It is like a switch has been flipped in him. Jason throws his half smoked cigaret over his shoulder. He can hear fear and shock coming off the kid in waves. Not to mention the fact the he isn’t using code names on an open line which is one of Batman's holy commandments. This is really bad. Whatever has happened, it is likely someone is dying or dead or worse.

Jason is up and moving before he even knows where to go.

“Tim, where are you? What happened? Are Batman or Nightwing with you?” Jason struggles to put on his helmet while jumping  down the fire escape while simultaneously keeping his phone at his ear.

“No!” Tim screams suddenly and Jason nearly fumbles his next jump at Tim’s impassioned plea. “No, Jason you can’t tell them.” It is equal parts a command and a plea and Jason is finding it harder to bite back the utter panic that wants to consume him. If Tim didn’t tell him what is going on right fucking now he was going to-

“ Jason, I think I killed someone.”


	2. The Body

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like writing Jason because it means I get to air out all the grievances I have with Batman.

Jason parks his bike 3 streets down from the address Tim had given him. He is in the industrial district, removed from the rest of the populous. So far outside the city he could actually see some stars. Not even drug dealers bothered to come out this far.

The heat makes the whole area smell like hot garbage and Jason may have stepped on a dead cat on his way over. Someone who isn’t him should really talk to Bruce about ramping up his Wayne Initiative to clean up Gotham thing.

Tim is waiting for him on the roof of one of the far east warehouses. Because heaven forbid they meet on the ground and talk like normal people. Fucking bat people.

Tim isn't bothering with any kind of cover so Jason figures it’s safe. He tucks his helmet under his arm, as much as the helmet is a good idea that has saved his life countless times, it feels like wearing an oven this time of year. He keeps his domino firmly in place though as he tries not to run across the loose gravel rooftop toward the boy in red. Tim stays rooted into place instead of meeting him in the middle.

First things first “Are you hurt?” Jason asks, raising his voice to cover the distance. Tim just stares at him like the question doesn’t make any sense. When he does finally answer it is just the barest shake of his head.

“Where is your backup?” Jason demands once he reaches the kid’s location on the far side of the roof. What the fuck was this kid doing out alone? Wasn’t Superboy his boyfriend or something?

“Batman and I decided to split up-” Tim begins and Jason has to fight back a shuttering impulse, thinking of how many of his own horror stories start with those words.

“We were breaking up a trafficking ring. The leader tried to get away. Batman and Robin went after him while I stayed here to round up the henchmen.” Tim finishes, sounding like he is reading a report.  

Despite Jason and Tim’s truce Jason really doesn't know the kid all that well. He has, however, spent enough time with the replacement to know that this is not normal. The kid is calculated, sure, with a stick up his ass that comes standard issue with the utility belt. This however, is different. He sounds almost robotic in his calm, he sounds like Batman.

Tim doesn’t say anything more, just stares at him with an empty expression. Jason has to resist the urge to try and turn him off and then back on again.

“Red, why don’t you just tell me what happened?” Jason tries not sound like he is speaking to a particularly slow child and utterly fails in his attempt. If Tim notices he doesn’t say anything.

“I’m not sure, it happened so fast.” Tim begins pacing and Jason can see where his stern expression is beginning to crack at the edges “I thought I had finished the last of the thugs. I was just about to call them in when this guy came out of nowhere.” Tim’s pacing steps steadily becoming faster as his tirade goes on.

“I had a knife in my hand from where I had taken it from one of the other thugs and I just…” Tim jerks to a sudden halt, both in words and motion. Jason can fill in the blanks.

“Where is he?” He very deliberately did not ask about ‘the body.’

Tim just nods to the warehouse below them.

“Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Jason barks as he heads to the roofs edge.

Fucking Labor day.


	3. Killer Reputation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it! This is the end! Thank you for reading!

Jason has had a long and illustrious career with dead bodies. In that time he has encountered his fair share of people that honestly looked like they could be sleeping. This was not one of those times.

The guy is dead. That is a definite. If the copper taste in the warehouse air doesn’t give it away the huge fucking knife sticking out of the dead man's throat certainly does. Jason hadn’t realized that there was a large part of him that doubted that Tim could have really killed anyone until he saw the evidence for himself.

This guy is definitely dead.

He is tall and broad and looked to be about middle aged. Perfect faceless goon material. Not faceless enough though. Not for what has happened. Jason doubts very much that Tim will ever forget this average face with its receding hairline as long as he lives.

It is difficult to see in the dim warehouse, he doubts that anyone has paid the electric bill here in years. Though some work lights have been set up for whatever kind of operation has been going down here. The definitely dead body is smack dab in the middle of the pool of light.

He looks to have been dead for about an hour. His skin is waxen and pale, and all the blood that has leaked out of him is coagulated on the floor.

Before Jason can even consider whether or not he should get involved his brain is already going into problem solver mode. Calculating the prose of cutting the body up for a less suspicious removal versus the the extra time and effort that would take. Not to mention the extra mess. Is there a pior that he can be sure will be empty this time of night? Orical would know but he can’t very well ask her the best place to drop off a body. How much longer do they have until Batman comes looking for his lost bird? Jason is drawn from his thoughts by a voice coming from the warehouse entrance.

“He’s dead isn’t he.” Tim’s voice is soft, as if not to wake the dead man on the floor. It isn’t a question, not really, so Jason doesn’t answer.  “How did this happen?” That one is a question, one that demands an answer, though it is absent of any inflection. It seemed as if Tim had reverted back to his weird form of shock. This is why Jason wanted him to stay on the roof. He could deal with a dead body or he could run damage control on a scared child, not both.

Jason doesn’t know how to answer the boy with blank face and monotone. He almost wishes Tim would just start crying or something instead of doing whatever this is. At Least Jason would have some idea of what to do with tears. He has certainly seen enough in his lifetime.

“I don’t know Tim but we are gonna figure this out.” Not like Jason could make it any worse at least.

“ Jason, you don’t understand, this can’t be happening, not to me.” Tim sounds so sure Jason nearly doubts what he is seeing with his own eyes. The definitely dead body that is on the bare cement floor.

“It was an accident Tim. It could have happened to anybody.” It had nearly happened to him a dozen times when he was Robin, back when he stood for something. Now here he is, helping a kid dispose of a body.

Tim is silent, standing perfectly still for a long time as Jason uses the night vision setting in his mask to search the warehouse for things he will need. Bleach, check. Bags, check. rocks would work in place of bricks, check. A tarp? Plastic sheeting would be ideal but beggars can’t be choosers, check. He can’t find a saw but he had his knife on him. He is strong enough to make that work but it will add time they don’t have. Fuck, maybe he should come at this from a different angle?

“He has a wedding ring”

“Huh?” Jason has just finished gathering his supplies when he notices that not only is Tim still here but is kneeling at the body, examining its left hand with an intensity Jason had never seen from him. He doesn’t even seem to notice that he's getting blood on his knees.

“The rings is at least 15 years old. He probably has kids….” And Tim  just shatters. Kneeing on the floor of a dirty warehouse in the middle of the night with only a murderer for company Tim Drake cries into the sleeve of a dead criminal.

“Oh God, what am I going to do? Dick will be- he- and Bruce, God, Bruce.” Tim hiccups through his sobs.

Before he knows what he is doing Jason is across the room, hauling Tim to his feet and shoving him against the far wall. And it’s not fair, Jason knows it’s not, because it’s not Tim he’s mad at. It’s not Tim’s fault that he is a child in a war zone. But Bruce isn’t here right now.

Jason sees the tears leaking from under Tim’s mask and wonders if Bruce realizes just how dangerous he makes people to themselves. It’s not that he ever asks them to take risks or sacrifice themselves to his vendettas. Of _course_ he doesn’t. He just makes young and impressionable children want to impress him. He makes them so desperate for his approval that they would rather die than let him down. No wonder Tim would rather consort with a murderer then face his mentors disappointment.

“Tim, listen to me. I know that falling apart seems like a really good idea right now but I _need_ you to keep it together for just a little bit longer. ” Tears are still streaming down Tim’s face but he nods, standing on his own as he starts taking Sama Vritti breaths. Jason recognizes the technique from his Robin days. He has a very distinct memory of complaining to Batman that he has been alive for 13 years and really doesn’t need to be taught how to _breath._ Bruce would have done a whole lot better teaching Tim some sort of protocol for situations like this rather than how to open his third eye.

He hadn’t taught the poor kid what to do if the worst happened because that would involve Bruce admitting that accidents were inevitable. Because of course accidents _never_ happened to the great and powerful Batman.

It must be so easy being Batman. Living in a world that is completely black and white. Unwilling to get his hands dirty enough to actually make a difference.

Once Jason is sure Tim can handle standing on his own he turns back to the body on the floor. He has a job to do. If Tim had wanted a shoulder to cry on he should have called Grayson. He hadn't called Dick, he had called Jason. He didn’t want self righteous pity from a bunch of freaks in leotards. He had called Jason because he wanted to make a problem disappear. He really had called the right man for the job. If their was anything left that Jason could do really well it was making people disappear.

He is a killer. That’s fine. He does his job in the most effective way possible and if the makes him a killer then so be it. As long it only results in late night calls from baby Robins that are too ashamed to call anyone else instead of the whole Brady Bunch trying to put him away for the rest of his life, it is fine by him.

Jason looks between the lifeless body on the floor and the kid trying to keep it together and makes a decision.“Go home Tim. I can take it from here.” Jason has not bothered to properly dispose of a body in a long time but he figures it’s just like riding a bike. Plus there is no reason to drag the clearly traumatized kid through the more messy parts of body disposal.

“What? No, I’m not going to leave you -”

“I said go Tim.” Jason grits out, wishing Tim would stop making this harder than it needs to be. “I’ll take care of this. It’s late, just go home.”

“But-” Tim tries to object

Jason doesn’t have time for this.“This is not up for debate. Go Home now. Haven't you heard the stories of what happens to baby birds that don’t listen to orders?”

“I think I might have heard that one.” A low voice speaks from the shadows as a figure emerges. Jason jumps so hard he nearly shoots him and then he nearly shoots him again when he realizes who it is then he nearly shoots him for a third time just on principle. It is just like Batman to wait around in the shadows for the most dramatic time to make an entrance.

Batman doesn’t even react to to the gun pointed at his head. He either feels sure that Jason will not shoot him or that he can dodge it if he does. Either way he is a smug son of a bitch that deserves to be shot.

Jason’s blood starts to boil before he has even fully processes the situation. It is a familiar anger though, one whose  fire had burned out a long time ago. Now his mind scape was just scorched and barren, leaving him tense and defensive rather than murderous. Jason doesn’t want to be angry at Bruce anymore. He has been nothing but angry for so long and he is sick to death with it. He just can’t seem to stop.

Bruce enters the scene with the cool confidence that can only come with being Batman™. But despise what he may think Bruce is still human, he has tells, and Jason knows them all.

He has no doubt noticed the dead body in the middle of the room, it is hard to miss. He tries to make his trajectory through the warehouse seem random, but it is clear that he is very deliberately putting himself between his son and The Red Hood. He has obviously taken in the situation and assumed the worst of Jason. Jason wants to laugh, as if he is more likely to hurt Tim then the well trained mental patient dressed as a bat.  

There is a long silence. Jason wishes he still had the hood on, It makes it so much easier to deal with The Batman. But if he puts it on now Bruce will know it for the weakness it is and Jason refused to be the one to blink first.

“What seems to be the problem here?” Bruce demands with an authority that Jason might have responded to when he was 14. Now it just pisses him off.

Bruce looks from Tim to the dead body on the ground and then back to Jason. Tim stays silent and firm, holding his ground.

Jason is suddenly struck by the fact that Tim really isn’t a kid anymore. He’s 17 now, nearly 18. For an insane moment, looking at Batman and Red Robin framed by the work lights Jason wonders if that could have been his future, if things had gone differently. It was easy enough to imagine. What with Bruce's fetish for white boys with black hair and blue eyes he and Tim could be brothers.

Jason had never made it to 17, but if he had would that have been his life? A hero fighting alongside Batman? When Jason was a kid that had been all he ever wanted. He thought for sure he would grow up and be just like Nightwing. Well, not like Nightwing, someone cooler than Nightwing. He even had some costume ideas still in his sketch book from back in the day.

It was useless to wonder now though. Jason’s life had ended a long time ago, but Tim’s is just beginning. He deserves a decent shot at it.

“No problem here Bats. Just clearing out the riff raff. I happened to be in the neighborhood and noticed your boy here and figured he could use a hand.” Jason forces himself to look casual as Batman fixes him with an inscrutable stare. Meanwhile Tim looks at him like he is insane.  

“You killed this man?” Batman asks, doing his best impression of a stone wall.

“Sure did.” Jason answers, trying to distract Bruce from Tim, who looks like he might be trying to go into shock again.

“How very interesting.” Bruce says, sounding introspective. Jason can tell that Bruce wanted him to say ‘what is it Batman!?’ like some chirpy little side kick but whatever Batman was selling right now Jason was not buying. When it becomes clear that no one is going to give him a lead in Bruce continues unprompted.

“It’s interesting because the knife is at a downward 45 degree angle, suggesting the assailant was quite a bit shorter than the victim.”  Batman, the smug bastard, doesn’t look up from his informal autopsy as he asks: “How tall are you now Hood? 6 foot? 6 foot 1?”

People forget. They get distracted by the fact that Bruce is a grown man flying around in a bat suit punching criminals. They forget that Batman thinks he’s the world’s best detective. Which, is frankly ridiculous. Anyone could be a good detective if they were allowed to break into their suspect's homes and beat their witnesses for information.

Jason had forgotten, but he isn’t about to let him win that easily.

“I got knocked down during the fight.”

“You wouldn’t be able to reach his neck from the ground.”

“I stood _up_ as. I. Stabbed. Him.”

“Then the blade would be at a 90 degree angle.”

“Enough!”

Batman and Jason both turned to Tim who was red faced and panting. Honestly Jason had forgotten he was there. Apparently Batman had to. He didn’t exactly move all that much but in any man he would have just done the equivalent of jumping out of his skin.

“Jason, this isn’t why- I didn’t call you here to… I just thought you might understand.” Tim lets his voice trail off. Jason falters, drawn short by Tim’s confession and the sudden change in mood. Batman adjusts to the change flawlessly, the bastard, going to Tims side and putting a companionable hand on his soldier.

“Batman, it was an accident but Jason- Red Hood didn’t- I’m the one who-”

“I Know.” Bruce doesn’t make him say it. The mother fucker probably walked into the warhouse and knew exactly what had happened based off the dust under Jason’s fingernails or some shit.

Now that he thought about it his error seemed so obvious. Of course Tim wouldn’t want Jason taking the blame. The Bat family carried guilt like a mantel. They couldn’t get a fucking nough of it.  He is  pretty sure some sort of contest is in play.

Jason has been hanging around criminals too long. He has forgotten some people still have honor. It seems as if Tim really had just called him here for advice. Jason had been understandably confused, he still is really. Why anyone would want advice from Jason, especially when it came to Bruce, is beyond him.

“Red Robin, call commissioner Gordon.You need to tell him what happened so we can get this taken care of.” Batman reaches into his belt and pulls out a small comm unit and lays it on Tim’s palm. Tim looks like the thing might bite. “Or I can do it, if you wish.” Batman reaches to take back the device but Tim closes his hand around the it.

“No, that’s alright. I’ve got it.” Bruce looks at his son, his face never so much as shifts  but Jason can still tell that he is proud of his son. Maybe if Jason had been better at interpreting looks like that back when he was Robin, maybe things could have turned out differently.

Batman puts a gauntleted hand over Tim’s closed fist and gives him a short nod. Jason realizes that this is fast becoming a bat clan bonding moment and Jason should get the hell out of Dodge.

He starts to scuttle out of one of the loading dock doors when a hand on his shoulder stops him dead in his tracks. It was Batman of course, it’s like that idiot is trying to get shot. Jason stays silent, he has nothing to say to this man. He just waits for Bruce to say whatever it is he feels like he needs to say so that he can leave.

“Thank you” Bruce finally says in a brisk and businesslike tone. As if he were thanking Jason for dropping off a report at his desk. Before Jason can gather his wits about him enough to ask where the hell that had come from Batman is speaking again.

“What you did- tried to do for Red Robin. Thank you.” Jason shrugs off Batman's hold on his shoulder, trying to make it look natural. Not wanting Bruce to know how uncomfortable the casual touch makes him.

“I didn’t do it for you” Jason snaps once he has established a comfortable distance. Bruce nods as if he had expected that answer.

“I know. Thank you anyway.” Jason knows he could probably walk out right now and Bruce probably would not stop him but he wanted to head this weird moment off at the pass. The last thing Jason wanted was Bruce thinking he owed Jason some sort of bat-favor.

“Don’t sweat it bats. It would have been just one more point on my killer reputation.” Jason chuckles a bit at his own  joke but Batman remains stone faced and impassive.

“You're not a killer Jason.” Batman states with all the surety of a fact. Jason is stymied.

“I think you’ll find that actually I-” Jason starts but Batman interrupts him before he can finish his thought.

“I know you’ve killed people. I’m not unaware of that fact, but I know you Jason. I know what  you’ve done, and what you are. They are not the same thing.”

Somehow in the time Jason had been gone Bruce has built him up into a memory of a perfect child, ‘a good solder.’ Jason had never been very good and he definitely wasn’t any kind of soldier. He had been a 15 year old kid with an attitude problem. How had Bruce forgotten that?

“ You don’t know me at all.” Jason spits. He isn’t a hero. He is a killer with a dead boys name. Bruce just refused to see it.

“I’m sorry.” Batman says looking dejected.

“Stop fucking apologizing.” If  there was one thing Jason can’t stand it is pity from The Batman. Jason's life has been a mess from beginning to end to beginning again and of course Bruce feels it is his civic duty to take personal responsibility for the life and times of Jason Todd the street orphan. And yeah, he probably would have been better off if he and Bruce had never met but his life was no one's but his own. He didn’t need empty apologies from the only person that was a bigger mess then he was.

“Jason, I don’t know what you want from me. You have to tell me.” And Jason can hear the frustration bleeding into exhaustion in his voice. Jason is right there with with. If only Jason knew what Jason wanted. He doesn’t want to fight anymore, he knew that for certain. He is so sick to death of fighting, running and hiding, wondering every day if today is the day that one them finally decides that he's not worth the trouble and locks him away for good. He wants to put his past behind him but he is still so hurt and angry.  He just can’t seem to stop lashing out at the people he knows are just trying to help him.

“I just- fuck, I don’t know - Just…” Jason has no idea how to end that sentence. Luckily, at that moment Jason catches a glimpse of Tim standing at the edge of the light  over Batman’s shoulders, presumably still talking to the commissioner.

He’s wearing a face far beyond his years but he’s nodding along with whatever is being said on the other end of the communicator. He must sense Jason's stare because he looks up to meet his eye. Jason would have given him a thumbs up if Batman weren’t here, but Batman is here so he just kind of nods in Tim’s general direction. Tim’s mouth twitches up at one corner. Barely noticeable at this distance, but there.

“Just… Take it easy on Tim. It was an accident and he's not a bad guy.” Tim had stepped into his costume, his life, and he had done more with it then Jason ever could have. There was a time when Jason had been bitter about that. Now though, seeing his replacement taking responsibility for his mistakes and doing his very best to fix them, Jason felt absurdly proud.

“ I know” Batman says without missing a beat. He looks pleased. Jason can't tell if the look is meant for him or Tim but it is making him feel like he has ants crawling on his skin.

“I should probably head out. As much as I would love to see Jim I would rather spend my night outside of a cell.” Batman looks like he wants to protest but just nods solemnly and steps away from the exit so Jason can pass him.

“Take care of yourself Jason.” He barely hears Batman over the sound of  heavy warehouse door.

“I would say the same but you have people you pay to do that for you” Jason uncharacteristically teased in reply. Maybe it’s because it was the first time Jason has had a conversation with Batman since he came back without anyone trying to kill each other but he feels lighter, playful in a way he thought he might never feel again. Maybe it was just because it was Labor Day. Jason closes the door to the sound of a throaty chuckle.

It is nearly 6am, the rising sun reflects on the the smog from the Gotham city skyline in pinks and oranges. From about three blocks away Jason can see the shadow of a man doing way too many flips to be anyone other than Dick Grayson. For a guy that saw his parents fall to their death from a flying trapeze he sure does like to tempt gravity.

Jason is glad he had gotten out of there before it became even more of a family affair then it already is. Jason can’t see Damian or Casandra anywhere but that just means that the two ninja children could be anywhere.

Two streets away Jason can see the midnight blue Sedan Jim Gordon drives when he isn't trying to save the city in his squad car. His civilian car that had used to take Barbara to ballet lessons and James Jr. to the library but is now exclusively for grocery runs. He isn’t here as the commissioner of police in the most dangerous city in America but a man who has come to help a friend in a time of need.

Jason leaves, assured that Tim is in good hands as he runs in the vague direction of home.

**Author's Note:**

> The title comes from me asking my friend if Jason favored a specific brand or if he just smoked 'cigarette brand cigarettes.'


End file.
